


First Day of Spring (The Being Alive Remix)

by mrs_leary (julie)



Category: Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 18:37:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14677008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/mrs_leary
Summary: It is midday on the Saturday of the stag weekend, and already Bradley is feeling no pain ... but then he sees a figure sitting all alone on a park bench in the cold, who he thinksmustbe Colin Morgan.





	First Day of Spring (The Being Alive Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Merlocked18](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merlocked18/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Winter is here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5290694) by [Merlocked18](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merlocked18/pseuds/Merlocked18). 



♦

It was about midday on the Saturday of the stag weekend, and already Bradley was feeling no pain, despite the fact that winter was unseasonably long this year. He and his mates were walking through a bitterly cold Glasgow, with camaraderie and whisky and a good healthy dose of sheer bloody bravado keeping them warm. This was noticeably not the case for many of those around them, however. Most people – sensible people – were stiffly hunched with cold despite being layered up with coats and hats and scarves. 

As Bradley and his mates passed a block-sized square of park, with the still bare-branched trees stark against the dull greys of an overcast day, one lone figure caught Bradley’s eye. Someone sitting on a bench, huddled up in a dark coat. There was no one else around, no kids playing, no other people loitering or exercising. Just this one figure, huddled up and – Bradley could tell, even at a distance – as overcome by misery as by the cold. 

And the thing was … the thing was that Bradley could have sworn it was Colin Morgan. 

Not that Bradley had any idea why Colin would be in Glasgow that day – or, for that matter, why he wouldn’t be. Not that Bradley could be sure of anything much about the stranger, what with the hunched posture and the large coat. But he’d become so familiar with Colin’s figure in all kinds of weird and wonderful situations over the five years of _Merlin_ , and though they were now coming up for the tenth anniversary of the show, Bradley would still be able to pick Colin out of a line-up even if the participants were all dressed in black garbage bags with paper bags over their heads. Not that the figure was wearing a bag of any description on his head – or, indeed, a hat, let alone one of Colin’s trademark beanies. But the thick tumble of dark hair certainly looked like the man himself.

Bradley had already fallen a bit behind the others, and now he slowed, and called out to them. “Guys! Guys, I’ll catch you up, all right?”

One of them – Aakif, of course, not only the groom Steve’s best man but also the glue that kept these particular friends together – took a couple of steps back towards him, while the amorphous blob of the rest merely slowed a bit in their onward progress. “Everything OK, Bradley?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Just seen someone I know. I’ll catch you up at the Piper.”

Aakif nodded and, as he backed away, lifted his phone in a reassuring gesture. _Call me if you need to._

 _Will do,_ Bradley replied with a thumbs-up. He watched the group of them carry on and turn the next corner, and then he was alone. Except for this figure who may or may not be Colin Morgan. Bradley took a breath, stuck his hands into his jacket pockets, and ambled over there. 

It _was_ Colin.

The figure had his head down, with his face shadowed from above by the fall of dark hair and from below by the dark coat with its collar up – but as soon as Bradley spied the long elegant curve of a cheekbone, he knew his instincts had been right. Bradley was going to call out a greeting, but then he saw the faraway gaze, and glimpsed the glitter of a teardrop caught in those long eyelashes, and Colin’s lips parted as if on a despairing gasp.

Bradley walked carefully closer, circling around so he wouldn’t suddenly be looming over Colin’s shoulder or anything. Once he was within Colin’s field of vision, Bradley steadily made his way to the vacant half of the bench, and quietly sat down, hands still in his pockets. “Hey, there,” Bradley murmured. 

Colin blinked as if waking from a dream – a nightmare – and after a moment glanced at him sidelong as if assessing the threat. And then he did a shuddery double-take, and lifted his head to look at Bradley directly, apparently wondering if his eyes were deceiving him.

“Hey, Colin,” Bradley said in the same harmless tones. 

“Bradley!” Colin exclaimed, his voice cracking painfully between the two syllables. “Where –”

“Where did I pop up from?” Bradley surmised in deliberately mild amusement. “I came with some mates for a stag do. My friend Steve’s getting married. I don’t think you’ve met him.”

Colin nodded his understanding, and then glanced around warily from under his long fringe, patently concerned that he was about to be besieged.

“They’re already at the next place,” Bradley reassured him, “getting some lunch to set them up for the afternoon.”

“You’d better –”

“Nah …” Bradley settled in, leaning against the back of the bench and sticking his legs out, crossed at the ankle. “I’ll catch them up later.” Meanwhile … he considered Colin carefully though indirectly. The man looked pretty wrecked, though wrecked with emotion rather than drink. Bradley sorted through his recent memories for a hint of what the problem might be, and could only come up with positive things – but this was Colin Morgan. It would have registered already if Bradley _had_ known of anything that might make him this unhappy, and Colin was always the scrupulously private sort, so perhaps no one in their circle of mutual friends was aware of this at all.

Bradley tried an oblique approach. “Are you up here for work?” He added a rhetorical question: “You went to drama school here, didn’t you?”

Colin huffed a little, in irony rather than humour. “Yeah. Back to the beginning.”

That was mumbled in his thickest accent, so it took Bradley a moment to replay and decipher the words. “You came back to the beginning … ?” Huh. Not to Armagh or Belfast, but Glasgow. Bradley dared to ask, “The beginning of … your career?”

One of the tears still clinging to those long lashes swelled as another tear joined it, and then fell to leave a random glistening trail down that pale skin.

There was absolutely no point in Bradley pretending it wasn’t obvious that something was very wrong. “Something’s gone wrong with your work?” he tried. “An audition went badly … ? You know, it might be a good sign if you can see where you didn’t hit your mark. That means that when you were right, you were perfect.”

Colin shook his head. _No._

“Maybe I’m not in the loop, but I’ve only been hearing good things. Like, weren’t you nominated for an Olivier?”

A spasm of pain cracked across Colin’s face, and he curled up further as if shielding himself.

Bradley hadn’t meant to make it worse. “Sorry,” he murmured. “Sorry, mate.” He dared to reach across and lay a hand on Colin’s shoulder; not patting or rubbing, but just quietly _there_. The fabric of Colin’s coat felt thoroughly cold, almost as if it were developing its own layer of frost. “How long have you been out here, Colin?”

A shrug, which prompted Bradley to withdraw his hand even though he was sure Colin only meant: _I don’t know. A while._ Not: _Get off me, you git._ Then Colin sat up again – and now he wasn’t hiding anything. The mask had fallen away, and Colin was nothing but bleak despair.

Bradley gaped at the utter devastation on his friend’s face – and then tried to regather his resources. After a moment, he said, “You must be cold right through to your marrow, Cols. Maybe we should …” He looked about the edges of the park, swivelling on his seat to see behind them – and luckily he spotted what seemed the perfect solution. “There’s an old pub over there. Maybe they’ll even have a proper wood fire. Why don’t we head over there, and get some whisky into you, or some tea, or soup maybe, and get you warned up again?”

For a long moment Colin didn’t respond, as if he hadn’t even heard. But then at last he nodded, just once, as if even in his distress he could acknowledge this was a good idea.

“Come on, then,” Bradley said, standing. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief when Colin stood, too, and walked along beside him without the need for any further encouragement. Colin’s first few steps were a bit shaky, as if his legs weren’t quite working properly, but he was doing well enough. Bradley pulled out his phone, and said, even as he was doing it, “I’m going to text Aaki and tell him I’ll be a while, OK? So we don’t need to worry about them.”

Colin shot him a querying glance.

“Mate, they’ll be at it all weekend. It’s not going to matter if I miss an hour or two.” Bradley gave him a wry smile. “And it won’t do me any harm, either! Let’s face it, I don’t need to be killing off any more brain cells. I’m already short of them as it is.”

Eventually Colin nodded agreement, as if maybe even silently acquiescing in the unspoken notion that right now Colin needed Bradley more than did Steve and his stag do. Bradley didn’t query or comment on this, but walked along beside his friend feeling a sense of gratitude and wonder. It was a red-letter day. Colin was going to let him help.

And they were in luck. The pub couldn’t have been more perfect. There were only two other customers, and they were sitting in the shadows at the far end of the bar, already well into a serious drinking session. And there was a fireplace with a genuine wood fire cheerfully awaiting the new arrivals. The barkeep took in Colin’s condition with one discreet sweep of his eyes, and reorganised the furniture to suit. “You both look frozen through,” he remarked as he shifted a high-backed sofa around to face the fire directly, with just a small table placed in front of it. Then he moved the other chairs far enough out of the way that the two of them would still have their privacy even if the place filled up. “Here, then,” he said. “Come and get warm.”

“Thank you,” Bradley responded, while Colin wordlessly went to sit down and gaze into the flames, his hands still deep in his coat pockets. 

“Shall I run you a tab, gents?”

“Thank you, yes. Could we start with a nip of whisky each?” Bradley continued. “And you wouldn’t serve soup, would you? It would have to be vegetarian,” he quickly added. 

“Aye. Today’s soup is carrot and ginger, and Chef tells me it’s vegan.”

“That’s brilliant! We’ll have two serves, thanks.” He offered his hand to shake. “I’m Bradley.”

“Tyrone,” the barkeep responded. “‘Tyrant’ to my staff.”

Bradley laughed. “I don’t believe that for a moment.”

Tyrone grinned, and left to fill their order, while Bradley went to sit beside his friend. He looked at Colin for a long moment, liking what he saw. Colin still seemed wrecked, but at least now that he was out of the cold he wasn’t as tense. He’d seemed brittle, out there in the park. As if he’d shatter at a touch.

When Tyrone brought the whisky over, Colin even nodded a thank you, and leaned forward to take up the shot glass. Bradley had worried he’d have to coax Colin into drinking. He prayed the soup would present as few problems as the whisky!

Once Colin had returned the empty glass to the table, he looked across at Bradley and offered the ghost of a wry smile. “You look relieved.”

Bradley couldn’t help but grin at that. “Ah, there’s still a whole pot of worry in here, simmering away on the back burner.”

Colin snorted at the imagery, and then met Bradley’s gaze very directly. “Mebbe I’m just bein’ a self-pityin’ wanker.”

“Well, we all get a turn at being that. You’ve probably skipped a few turns, too, so you’re due.”

A shake of the head was the only reply.

Silence stretched for a few moments. And then Bradley asked in a low voice, “Have you called your family? Could I do that for you?”

Colin shrugged – and when he saw that Bradley was about to persist, he said, “Not necessary. _Really._ ”

“Someone else, then?” Bradley felt pretty sure that he himself couldn’t be the answer, despite having accidentally been in the right place at the right time for once. 

A small but genuine smile cracked Colin’s face. “Don’t underestimate yourself, Bradley.” 

“Oh,” said Bradley, somewhat surprised but definitely pleased. “All right, then.” And he murmured fervently, out of nowhere, “I’ll be anything you need, Cols.”

In which moment Tyrone suddenly reappeared, and set down the bowls of soup, spoons, and a basket of bread on the little table. “Anything else, gents?” he smoothly enquired.

“Not for now,” Bradley replied, rather less suavely. He hoped they could all attribute any visible blushing to the closeness of the fire. “Thank you, Tyrone.”

Tyrone nodded, and left them to it. 

Colin was suppressing a grin as he leant forward to gather up the soup and a spoon – and Bradley decided the easiest thing to do was to follow his lead.

♦

Bradley wolfed down all his soup and a generous portion of the bread – it had been a long time since breakfast – and Colin managed a good half of his, which was more than Bradley had hoped for. So there already seemed to be some improvement. There was no denying, though, that Colin was still looking completely wrung out. 

Once Tyrone had replaced the remains of lunch with more whisky and two tumblers of water, Bradley ventured, “If it’s not about work … is it more of a … Well, have you had a break-up?”

“No,” said Colin, firmly. But then he said, “Yes. Not really.” He sighed. “Not like you mean.”

“Tell me … ?” Bradley prompted as gently as he could. The problem wasn’t only that Colin was intensely private, it was that the thing he was absolutely the most private about was his love life. Or whatever the right term for it was. His emotional life. His sex life. Though Bradley had long assumed that, wherever he was getting it from, Colin was perfectly satisfied. Until now, perhaps?

“She … she passed,” Colin suddenly blurted out. “She died. An accident.”

“Oh god!” Bradley exclaimed. “Colin!” He forced himself not to reach out and grab Colin’s arm. “A girlfriend?”

Colin grimaced, and shook his head. “A friend.”

No doubt he was being unnecessarily pedantic, but Bradley persisted. “A friend with benefits.”

After a long moment Colin nodded once, emphatically. “Not for a while … Not for a long while. But you don’t stop caring!”

“No, of course you don’t. I’m so sorry, Colin.”

“Caught in the middle of a stupid pile-up on the motorway. So fucking pointless.”

“That’s awful,” Bradley murmured, heartfelt but completely inadequate. “Truly awful.” You just had to accept your own inadequacy in the face of such grief, though. Didn’t you? This wasn’t about Bradley and his inability to express himself, after all.

“That’s not the worst of it.”

“Oh god …” Bradley murmured, scrambling to try to imagine worse.

“No, I mean –” Colin cast him an exasperated look, and then turned oddly self-conscious. “I mean, that _is_ the worst thing that’s happened. _That’s_ the tragedy. But what I did –” He took a moment, before finally saying, “Shameful.”

“No –” 

“Unforgiveable. _You_ don’t know,” Colin bit out, in response to Bradley’s instinctive denial. “I’m _such_ a wanker.”

Bradley took a breath. He was pretty sure that Colin was being way too hard on himself. But that didn’t make it hurt any the less for Colin. “Tell me, then,” Bradley said evenly. “Tell me what you did.”

Colin’s face hardened, and he stared off into the middle distance as if he couldn’t bear to see Bradley’s reaction. “I fuckin’ won that fuckin’ Olivier award, didn’ I?”

“Wha- what? Mate!” Confusion, and a surge of proud joy, were immediately followed by more confusion. “Colin, that’s grand. I didn’t know!”

But Colin would not be distracted now that he was hard on the trail. And he had turned back towards Bradley, as if finally wanting to confront him with the absolute worst. “And I went to the awards night, see? Instead of going to her funeral. I stood up there at the podium fuckin’ grinning like a loon, and all I managed was ‘to absent friends’.” He groaned, soul-deep, his hand lifted as if proposing a toast with his award. “To absent fuckin’ friends, I swear to God …”

Bradley watched him as Colin sagged against the back of the sofa, lost again in his thoughts – but actively lost now, if that made sense. Not just bleakly lost and wandering, never to return.

Things were falling into place for Bradley. When Colin finally showed signs of resurfacing, Bradley repeated Colin’s earlier words. “‘Back to the beginning,’ you said. You met her at drama school?”

“Yeah.” Colin mostly just looked tired by now. Very very tired.

“And her family are here?”

“Yeah.” Another grimace. “Wanted to visit, but I couldn’t just rock up on their doorstep. They wouldn’t know me from Adam. It would end up being … too significant. Raising questions I couldn’t answer. If I’d come to the funeral like I should’ve, I’d’ve just been a face in the crowd, you know? One of her old drama school mates.”

“OK,” said Bradley. “Yes, I get that. D’you know where she is, though? Which cemetery, or whatever? I figure we go there – tomorrow maybe. You’ve had enough for today. We go there, we take some flowers and we pay our respects – and then you can start to feel some peace over this.”

Colin scoffed. “I don’t deserve to feel any peace.”

“Yes, you do,” Bradley insisted. “Look, she was in the business, too, right? She’d understand. It’s not like it was just _your_ moment of glory. You owed it to the producers, and everyone else involved, to turn up, to take the photo opportunities, to give the show its due.”

Once he’d finished expounding all that, Bradley realised that Colin was now watching him with a small smile on his face. “Bradley James,” Colin said in his softest brogue. “I must o’ been a saint in a previous life, to deserve you.”

Bradley promptly felt his face flame, because of course it was always and forever the other way round, or – more to the point – Bradley could never really deserve the awesome Colin Morgan, not in a month of Sundays. 

He wanted to tease Colin about this rather unexpected combination of Catholic saints and karma, but something strange and unsettling was happening … When Bradley dared to look, he saw that Colin was holding his hand. Palm to palm, and fingers interleaved, their joined hands were lying there on the sofa between them, and Colin’s blue eyes were bright as they gazed back at him. Colin was still too pale and tired, but he was _animated_ now. He was engaged with something outside his own misery. 

Bradley didn’t look around to see if there were witnesses to this Moment they were having. The increased noisy buzz meant there were more customers filling the pub, but Bradley trusted Tyrone to have organised things for them well enough, with the back of the sofa shielding the important stuff from view. 

The Moment held …

Until Colin leant in just a fraction closer, with a wicked quirk in his smile. “So, Bradley … what d’you think of the whole ‘friends with benefits’ idea?”

Bradley let out a laugh, he was so surprised by the question – for which he apologised, though he knew Colin would understand. “Sorry. Yes … friends with benefits. I can see that it works for you. Absolutely. And I’m all for it, personally. In theory, at least. In practice …” He tilted his head in a quibble. “Sometimes in practice, sure. But,” he confessed with a sigh, “I’m not very good at it. I don’t have the knack. I think I’m too earnest.” Which was the greatest sin against coolness, wasn’t it? Bradley the Anti-Cool.

Colin was grinning by now, perhaps a bit too brightly, as if he were feverish. “Of course you’re sincere, Bradley. Richard warned me a long time ago that you’re a romantic.”

Bradley snorted. “Takes one to know one!”

“Exactly.”

Then Bradley thought to ask, very tentatively, “Why did he think you needed _warning_ … ?”

Colin looked away, and quite visibly pondered for a while. _This is it,_ Bradley thought to himself. _This is when he realises he’s giving himself away. The barriers are going back up, right about –_

But then Colin leant in further towards him, curving towards Bradley – curling up, but not due to cold this time. It was far more about intimacy now, as Colin quite deliberately pushed their Moment to the next level.

“When first I saw you,” Colin said, “for just a little while I was thinking, _Yeah, me and him … him and me … that could really be something …_ But then I realised you were straight, and there was no use making myself miserable. So that was that.”

“Just for a little while … ?” Bradley murmured, feeling an infinite ache of sadness for this tiny scrap of almost-might-have-been.

Colin pulled away and sat up again, and the Moment was shattered and gone – replaced by brisk efficiency. “Let’s get some supplies, and go back to the hotel. We can put the movie channel on and just hang.”

“I – I don’t think I can, really. I’m sharing the room with one of the guys, and I don’t know when they’ll be back.” Or was he being too scrupulous? God, he was so uncool that he didn’t even know the etiquette about inviting company back to a shared hotel room. Or was he even uncooler than that, and he was just embarrassed that his company was a guy rather than a girl? _The horror! The horror!_

Colin had headed off down another path while Bradley contemplated these momentous things. “Your friends,” Colin said heavily, sticking his hands back in his coat pockets and already appearing a little more remote. “Fuck. Sorry, Bradley. You’d better stop indulging an old sad-arse like me, and go have some fun.”

 _But I don’t **want** to,_ Bradley almost sulkily protested. Or maybe he’d plead, _Only if you come, too._ Though he suspected Colin and that lot wouldn’t be a great mix – not right now, anyway, with this still brittle Colin, and a bunch of mates whose focus really should be on happily celebrating with the groom-to-be.

“No,” said Bradley – firmly enough, he hoped, to close down any arguments. “I’ll text Aaki again, or call him. They really will be just fine without me. I’m totally peripheral. And, to be honest …” He met those deep blue eyes of Colin’s … “I’d rather be with you. If that’s OK. With you, I mean.”

Colin considered him carefully, a bit warily. And then he smiled, so beautifully. Bradley’s heart was wrung. 

“Anyway,” Colin said briskly again, as if the intervening conversation hadn’t happened – “I meant _my_ hotel. And we won’t be interrupted _there_ , I promise.”

“Your hotel … ? Colin, what the _fuck_ were you doing hanging around in that park almost freezing to death, when you had a hotel room to go to?”

Colin looked away. “I couldn’t bear it!” he exclaimed. “I was rattling round, all on my own. It was so empty! I didn’t know anyone there, and I didn’t want to get all needy, and weird out the staff. I couldn’t bear it,” he quietly repeated. “I had to get out for a while.”

“But you’ll be OK there,” Bradley cautiously asked, “if I’m there, too?”

“It’ll be grand. There won’t be any rattling round like a ghost when there’s two of us to fill the place up.”

“Well, then. That’s what we’ll do.”

♦

Bradley settled the tab with Tyrone, so Colin insisted on paying for their supplies – which would have just been a bottle of whisky if Colin had anything to do with it. Bradley added muesli bars, chocolate biscuits, and a carton of milk – to which Colin made no objections. 

As they walked towards Colin’s hotel, Bradley called Aakif. Colin was right there beside him, so Bradley couldn’t be too explicit. Not that he wouldn’t have respected Colin’s privacy if he hadn’t been listening in, but still. It made a difference to how he phrased things. He went with, “My mate’s hit a bit of a rough spot, and I need to hang with him for a while. Don’t bother Steve with it unless you have to. I’ll explain to him when I can.” 

Aakif was fine about it, of course. “You’ll be missed. But do what you gotta do, Bradley, and we’ll see you when you’re done.”

Bradley huffed a laugh. “Well, if anyone _does_ actually notice I’m not there, buy them all a couple of rounds of drinks on me, and I’ll pay you back as soon as I see you.”

“You’re a good man, Bradley.”

“Ah, but you’re the _best_ man, aren’t you!”

Colin was watching him thoughtfully through all of that, but didn’t seem to have anything to say once Bradley ended the call. They walked on in silence. 

But just before they left the cold clear air and entered the hotel lobby, Colin paused, and looked at Bradley. And he said, “Thank you.”

To which Bradley said, “You’re welcome.” 

And Colin led him inside.

♦

Bradley could see why Colin had felt he was rattling around the hotel room – it was huge, and very modern and very minimalist. The chairs didn’t look at all comfortable, so they grabbed the spare pillows from the top shelf of the wardrobe, piled them up at the head of the enormous bed, heeled off their shoes and then sprawled there on top of the bedspread, each on his own side and plenty of space to spare. 

Colin had brought the remote with him, and now switched on the movie channel, as he’d suggested. The sound was quite low, and Colin made no move to change it, so they had to stay quiet in order to hear the film. Alternatively, Bradley figured, if they ended up talking, the film wouldn’t get in their way. He liked that, and wondered if Colin had done it deliberately. 

They passed the whisky bottle back and forth a couple of times – and then Bradley, not entirely unexpectedly, found Colin’s spirit-scented lips on his mouth. He let it happen … He let his eyes drift closed and actually he _loved_ it happening, but he carefully didn’t respond, and after a while Colin pulled away.

“All right?” Bradley asked, opening his eyes again. The last thing he wanted was for Colin to feel rejected. 

Colin was still right there beside him, a lovely long warmth just a little too far away from Bradley’s side. “Didn’t you say,” Colin murmured in his gorgeous brogue, “that you’d be anything I need?”

Bradley chuckled under his breath. “I did, didn’t I?”

“But I was right all along? You’re one-hundred percent straight. Not even a little bit curious?”

It was quite something, having Colin Morgan _right there_ , his gorgeous face only inches away from Bradley’s, and warm with wanting. 

Bradley cleared his throat, and looked away for a moment. An honest response was required, even though he’d still have to turn Colin down afterwards. “I asked my Dad once, if he’d ever felt any impulses that way,” Bradley said. His matter-of-fact, even tones prompted Colin to withdraw slightly further, to watch and listen, to become a little more self-contained. “This was a while ago, mind. He said he hadn’t – and then he added, ‘You might have gotten a different answer if I’d ever met Val Kilmer back in the day.’”

Colin snorted. “Yeah, I get it.” He contemplated Bradley for a moment, and then asked, “Who’s your exception to the rule? I’m thinking … Ryan Reynolds, maybe?”

“No,” said Bradley, “it’s you.”

Colin gusted a surrendering “oh” on a breath, and pressed forward again to kiss Bradley. 

Which was glorious, of course, but Bradley had to gently push him away. To soften the rejection, he got them settled in close together, with their heads on the same pillow. No one could blame him for a bit of snuggling, could they? Friends could snuggle.

“Look,” said Bradley, trying to be gentle and firm at the same time. “There’s what you _want_ – and I love that right now it’s me you want, I love that more than I can say. But then there’s what you _need_ – which I suspect, for today at least, is a friend without the benefits.”

Colin put on an absurdly sulky face, complete with a pout from those beautiful lips. 

Bradley chuckled again – and was reassured enough by Colin’s display of ironic humour that Bradley felt he could continue with the utter sincerity. “Here you are, Colin Morgan, with all the shutters rolled up, and I can see in through your windows. That’s quite the privilege. I really do love that you can be like this with me. But you’ve got a lot going on right now, and I’m not gonna take advantage, Colin. I’m not gonna let you do something you’ll regret later.”

“But –”

“But nothing. If – to continue with the architectural metaphors – If you’ve kept your front door closed all these years, and not invited anyone in – not me, not anyone – there must be a reason for that.”

Colin pressed close, and pushed his face into Bradley’s throat as if hiding.

And it felt wonderful. Bradley lay there with his arms around his friend, his gorgeous friend who combined equal parts masculine and feline – the wild, dangerous kind of feline – and he yearned for all the things they’d never had. “I wish we’d tried,” Bradley murmured. “Back when we first met. When you first thought about it.”

“No, it wouldn’t have worked,” Colin mumbled into Bradley’s throat. “You’d’ve wanted a boyfriend. I’d’ve just wanted to fuck. I couldn’t have committed to it.” 

Bradley was _desperate_ to ask _‘Could you now?’_ but he was so afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing. When push came to shove, he just wasn’t sure about how to deal with a Colin this raw, this fragile. “You’re all over the place today,” Bradley quietly tried to explain. “Highs and lows. Griefs and … and, I dunno. Not happiness. But it’s like you want to escape yourself, or something.” He concluded, “This is _not_ the time to be making rational decisions.”

At which Colin pulled away, and propped himself up on an elbow in order to look down at Bradley with the most warmly sincere face that Bradley had ever seen on anyone. They gazed at each other, completely lacking in self-consciousness, each considering the other from this deep new perspective. 

Eventually Colin spoke, his voice thick with emotion. “Maybe there are some decisions that shouldn’t be rational. Life-changing decisions. I think … I honestly think my Mum’s been tryin’ to tell me that for years. And I’m only just now gettin’ a glimpse o’ why.”

“Col …” Bradley whispered. He cleared his throat, and tried to say more forcefully, “You should know … my self-restraint isn’t infinite.”

“Thank God for that!” Colin burst out with a grin. He added confidentially, “I used to think we were too different at the core to ever be a good match. Now I see we’re different in just the right ways. We fit. Like pieces of a puzzle coming together.”

“Oh god …” The words were dragged out of Bradley, but they were the truth for all that. “I want to – I want to fit. With you.”

Colin’s grin turned fond. He lifted a hand to gently cup Bradley’s face, to caress his cheek with a palm, to run fingers back through his hair. Then he leant in again to kiss Bradley properly, gently … gorgeously. 

Bradley sighed into the kiss and then, as Colin’s hand lowered to shape itself to his waist, Bradley groaned. Colin touching him … was a revelation. The heat that had been building within Bradley these past few hours now burst into riotous joy, and he shifted his own hands, taking a firmer hold on Colin and moving up against him. His senses were on overload with that strong wiry torso in his arms, those lips becoming hungrier against his own, and they were so close now that a rumble deep down in Colin’s throat was both heard and felt by Bradley, and he answered in kind.

They were overlapping, half and half, and the shared heat and friction of body against body was just incredible, despite still being fully clothed – until they shifted again, and they were facing each other, and Bradley could feel Colin hard and hot against him through their jeans – “Oh Christ!” Bradley burst out. “You sexy –”

Colin had lifted his head to look at him, and his expression was wild now, and so fuckin’ horny, his eyes glowing with life and need and … 

“You sexy _beast_ ,” Bradley concluded. “Oh Christ, oh fuck, Colin …” He felt absolutely broken apart with lust. “ _Col …_ ”

Colin knew what to do, of course. He pulled away to almost literally tear open his own jeans, and then did the same to Bradley’s when Bradley was too slow to do it himself. Pushed the denim down to their thighs – and then he was settling himself heavy over Bradley, matching them up perfectly, cock against cock, balls rubbing against balls, and Colin drove into a ragged rhythm that scattered the broken pieces of Bradley across the room, across the city, across the world. It was so _hard_ and so _hot_ , and if Bradley had thought about it beforehand he would have figured it couldn’t possibly be enough, not for anyone of his age, with his experience – but it was more than enough, it was almost too much – and within moments he was coming, thrusting up against Colin and spilling his spunk wet between them, and he was moaning like the end of time was upon them. Colin was coming, too, and arching up crying out in the most utterly awesome joy – and that pulled Bradley back together again, so that he was whole, more whole than he’d ever been before. 

And they were done. Colin collapsed down beside him, and they lay there for a while, still warm where they were pressed together, maybe even too warm now, but not wanting to shift. Bradley didn’t know if he could move, anyway. His head was still spinning in the most delightfully disorienting manner. 

Eventually they both had their breath back, and Colin shifted just slightly so they could see each other clearly. Bradley stretched a little, feeling lithe and lazy and really just wonderful, and then he settled back into their mutual embrace.

Their silence was superbly comfortable, but then Colin spoke and that was better still. “So … Bradley … d’you need a date for that wedding?”

“Yes,” Bradley replied. The loveliest grin bloomed on Colin’s face, and Bradley’s heart bloomed in response. “Yes, I do.”

“Good,” said Colin. “Then I’m your man.”

♦


End file.
